A personal confession of a Dataist

<h1>A personal confession of a Dataist</h1>

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In one way everything is data. Nothing makes sense. Data by itself has no intrinsic value unless interpreted. Interpretation isn't obvious. It depends on purpose. Intention. Somebody has some intention. Who? What? Who does Who think Who is?
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<p>
Useless questions. Maybe. I (=mememe) on the other hand have had as a title from 1988 the title "Dataist" in the swedish phone book. I no longer live in Sweden. This website is my new way of wearing this title. You may wonder
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<h2>what I mean with "Dataist"</h2>

<p>Essentially I see that all I do as manipulation of data. Trying to make it make sense to me. Some call it computing, programming, analyzing, reading, researching, discussing, watching movies. I call it Life. In life there is data to process. Slowly, little by little I'm trying not to process input. Not actively. There is no sense to make. It just is. Ok, so what's this bullshit about? Well, I started doing meditation some years back. I'm still doing it. Actually, I'm trying to implement it in other parts of my life, for example by <a href="http://SitAtWork.org/">sitting at work</a>. Sitting meditatation is a strange thing. At first it doesn't make sense. Then that makes sense. That it doesn't make sense. Zen. Buddhism.
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<h2>"Need more input!"</h2>

...was said by a robot built by this indian guy in a nerdy movie. It needed more input. To learn. This was my life. Is still my life. But. At times I also see that I don't need some input. Some "data" I already have within me. I don't need validation by certain input from other people. I can just be me. So meditatation is about input. Not much output. During meditation one stops all intentional and un-intentional output. No reaction to thinking. Thinking happens. We're human. We think. I am. I am not. What am I? Thanks for asking. Goodday.

<h2>Sitting meditation</h2>

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In meditation thoughts come up. I try to observe them. Just as they are. Oop! "There was a bad thought!". Here I catch myself, thinking something was bad. Something I didn't like. That's ok. I am aware of my aversion to fotboll games. That's ok. Let the fotball go. Breathing in. ... Breathing out. In meditation one doesn't really strive for anything. Because the striving makes something really hard. First when you give something up can you have it. It's your own rule. Think about it. Like, if you really want something what happens often? You screw it up! This is because of expectations. It should be this way. No that way. Nothing is perfect. Not even you. That is why you're perfect as you are. There is no perfect. There is also not any no perfect. Because everything is perfect. That is what we mean when we say that something is perfect. Buddhist philosophy.
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<h2>The reason you're reading this</h2>

<p>You're searching. You're here. What did you find that you didn't know already?